


Into You

by novocaine_sea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Asexual Character, Body Swap, Canon Compliant, M/M, Nudity, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24293935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: Sakusa isn't where he's supposed to be when he wakes up. There's no smell of lemons or antiseptic, the sheets are too scratchy, and he's on his stomach. Turns out, he's not who he's supposed to be when he wakes up either.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 15
Kudos: 347





	Into You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a frenzy, sorry for any mistakes. I love these two so much

From the moment Sakusa wakes up, he knows something is wrong. The usual smell isn’t there, the smell of fabric softener and lemons that permeates his apartment. It helps keep him calm and reminds him of the heavy cleaning supplies he uses to scrub down his apartment once a week. None of that is there this morning, no is the sleeping mask that usually covers his eyes. He rarely moves in his sleep, so there would be no reason for it to have shifted out of place. And why was he on his stomach? Not only is it uncomfortable, but he worries about suffocating in his sleep. Not that he thought his body would allow him to do as such, but the human mind was a fickle thing and could not be controlled.

“What the hell...” he murmurs and then every single cell in his body comes to a halt. He knows that voice all too well. He wishes he didn’t but that voice haunts his dreams and bleeds into his nightmares and even plagues thoughts that no sane person should have. Take that as you will. He’s certain the voice came from his mouth and he sits up slowly. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, letting them adjust. He recognizes that this is  _ not  _ where he’d fallen asleep last night. The walls are gray and the sheets matched. There are volleyball posters pasted haphazardly on the wall, not even straight. Sakusa examines the room, with its clothes lying in piles on the floor and strewn over chairs, the deodorant uncapped on the dresser. It’s disgusting. 

And it smells like Miya Atsumu. The man who seems to douse himself in AXE Body Spray each morning yet still somehow emerges smelling like a fresh springtime meadow. Sakusa can’t help but notice, everything about him is  _ sensitive _ , from his eyes to his nose to the pads of his fingertips.

Fingertips...

Sakusa glances to his hands. They’re not his. The fingertips are rough and calloused, definitely a volleyball player’s hands. But there are no moles dotting pale skin, in fact, this skin is sunkissed, tanner than his own will ever manage to get. This is not his body, but his mind thinks it is. It must be some kind of dream then. Maybe if he rolls over and goes back to sleep, he’ll wake up and everything will be okay.

He attempts. But sleep doesn’t find him. There’s an obnoxious honking sound coming from the bedside table moments later. With a groan (again, not his own though), Sakusa hauls himself over to grab the phone that lies there. It’s not his. For one, the phone case is red and Sakusa  _ hates _ the color red. It reminds him of heat, which makes him think of sweat and the summertime and he can’t stand the itchiness that comes with unnecessary sweating. Second of all, there is no passcode on this phone. His is fairly protected (his own passcode is his birthday, which any acquaintance would know but not a stranger), which is the logical thing any other person would do.

He squints to read the text that appears from the screen, from the contact labeled  _ Omi-kun~,  _ a kissing face emoji punctuating it. Sakusa scrunches his nose in disgust. That’s Miya Atsumu’s disdainful nickname for him, after he’d told Sakusa on the first day of their Black Jackal’s practice that “Sakusa Kiyoomi” was a mouthful. It’s just his name, it’s not like Miya Atsumu was any better. But from then on Sakusa had begrudgingly been called Omi-kun, but only by Miya. None of the others ever dared. Bokuto tries, but wilts at the glare that is sent his way.

He reads the text over and over again, but somehow his only thought becomes: “ _ How can I get a text from myself? _ ”

The text reads:  **Ur room is so nice and clean, Omi-kun. Wish Id seen it a diff way tho**

Miya Atsumu is in his bedroom. Sakusa is in Miya’s bedroom. Sakusa doesn’t understand what’s going on. He doesn’t bother responding. This is too much so early in the morning and he stands up, stretching out as best he can. There’s no comforting pop of every joint in his body as he stands and he misses it, oddly enough. Most people wouldn’t find the pain enjoyable yet here Sakusa is.

He searches for the bathroom slowly, knowing what he’s going to be met with but not wanting to face the reality. There’s only one other room in Miya’s apartment, and Sakusa flicks the light switch on. His bathroom isn’t as disgusting as the bedroom, but it’s not spotless. Sakusa could wretch but he controls himself, opting to wait until he looks in the mirror. One foot hits the tiles first and then the next, rounding to face the sink and the mirror. 

Miya Atsumu’s smug face stares back at him. He scowls and Miya’s expression mimics it perfectly. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. This really isn’t a dream. This is a living nightmare. He starts to feel suffocated in his own skin (or, the skin that doesn’t belong to him) and he starts washing his hands, counting out each second. Five... ten... fifteen... twenty... The soap that Miya uses is coarse on his hands but he’ll have to live with it for the time being. He feels more calm with his hands clean and he brushes his teeth with the toothbrush that is practically crumbling apart underneath his fingers. If anything comes of this, maybe he can make Miya have some decent hygiene. Though his teeth look perfect and white, his hair is dyed just as flawless, and there isn’t a blemish on his skin.

He goes back to the phone once he’s done making sure that Miya’s face and hands are as clean as possible. He doesn’t want to touch anything he doesn’t have to, but that’s a tall task. Sakusa is positive that nothing in Miya’s apartment has ever been disinfected and he’ll have to change that. But first, the phone. There are more texts from his own number, but they’re so distinctly Miya Atsumu that it makes him sick. Thank god nobody else can see his text history.

**[07:52] Omi-kun~**

**U gotta help me out here. dunno which to use**

**_[image attached]_ ** _ (Image shows three different kinds of toothpastes and two different deodorants.) _

**[07:59] Omi-kun~**

**Kinda sad I get to be in ur apartment under these circumstances**

**[08:12]**

**U got nothin good to eat here. wth**

Sakusa scowls at each text. He goes back to the bathroom and finds some disinfectant wipes stuffed in the cabinets behind the door and wipes down Miya’s phone before pressing it to his ear. He’s not going to put it to his face (well, Miya’s) without knowing where its been. The phone rings three times before Miya picks up and the smug tone on the other end is as disgusting as ever, more so now that it’s coming from Sakusa’s own voice.

“ _ Omi-kun, how sweet of ya to call me so early! _ ” Is this what he sounds like over the phone? Sakusa cringes. After this he’s never speaking to anybody again. His voice is gravelly and maybe it’s just Miya who is pitching it higher than it needs to be.

“What did you do? How did this happen?” Sakusa fists a hand in his hair anxiously. At least Miya’s hair is soft, he clearly takes care of that part of himself. (And Sakusa would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about carding his fingers through pale locks on more than one occasion.)

“ _ Why’s’it my fault?! _ ” Sakusa cringes again. He’s positive he’s never raised his voice to that octave in his life. Judging from the way his own vocal box creaks, it agrees.

“Because everything is your fault Miya. So somehow this must be too.”

“ _ I didn’t do nothin’! Maybe ya just wanted to be so bad, huh? I mean, who  _ wouldn’t?” Miya’s smug tone was as gross as his accent in Sakusa’s mouth. Sakusa couldn’t stand this. Maybe he should’ve stuck to text, but he couldn’t properly yell at Miya if he did. He sighs again, letting the silence linger between them. 

“ _ What do ya wanna do ‘bout it then? _ ” Miya asks, this time a lot more serious. Sakusa paces back and forth, eyeing the bed he so desperately wants to collapse in. But no, he’s not crawling back under any sheets until they’re properly washed. Maybe twice even. 

“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. Sakusa isn’t sure what to do. It’s not like there’s a bunch of online articles that say: Here’s What to do When You Swap Bodies With the Most Annoying Person on the Planet! If only there were though... “Just  _ don’t  _ touch anything. I don’t need you ruining anything of mine.” Where Miya goes, disaster follows and Sakusa didn’t want that tornado to hit his apartment.

“ _ Ah, well, it’s too late for that, Omi-kun. You’ve got lotsa interestin’ stuff here I had to take a look! I hope you don’t mind! _ ” The smug tone is back and bile rises in Sakusa’s throat before Miya can continue his sentence. “ _ Also, I must say, you’re kinda packin’ down there. Who knew? _ ”

“I’m coming over. Don’t move.” Sakusa kills the line, fury raging inside of him. This must be an emotion that Miya’s body is used to, because it doesn’t overheat. The blood in his veins only tingles with the anger coursing through them and Sakusa rips open the dresser drawers to try and find something presentable to wear. Thankfully Miya’s fashion sense isn’t too atrocious and he opts for a pair of black skinny jeans and some graphic tee with a hoodie over it. Miya doesn’t own a mask (or one that Sakusa can readily find without having to touch  _ everything _ ) so Sakusa is going to have to go bare-faced. He can’t remember the last time he was in public without a mask, but thankfully this isn’t  _ his  _ body the germs will infect. But he’s in it, so the germs will still affect him. He pushes those thoughts away before he can really react to them. 

It takes Sakusa ten minutes and forty-one seconds to storm over to his own apartment. He doesn’t know how to feel about Miya living so close to him and having never known. Their gym is right in the middle of their two apartments, so it makes sense. But Sakusa still isn’t sure he wants Miya knowing where he lives either. Sakusa likes the mystery around him, but only because he doesn’t want the annoying dogs on his team sticking their nose in his business. 

He takes the stairs two at a time as he usually does. He doesn’t trust the elevator and he never will. All the fingers having touched the buttons, the close proximity, the tight space, it all makes Sakusa’s skin crawl. The stairs are safe and he keeps his hands shoved in his pockets as he moves. Miya’s legs are slightly shorter than his own but he doesn’t have a problem maneuvering up the stairs as he likes. 

He makes it to his apartment, number 715, and bangs on the door repeatedly. It seems like a Miya thing to do, and if anybody were to see him and recognize him in the hallway, they would be expecting the charismatic Miya Atsumu instead of the introvert Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

The door swings open to reveal Miya, well,  _ Sakusa’s body _ . It’s shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. 

“I did not sleep in that last night,” Sakusa announces as he pushes his way into his own apartment, barely remembering to take his shoes off despite that practice being instilled in him for years. He has to make sure that everything is in place, that Miya didn’t destroy a thing-

“I just wanted to admire the view! And it’s  _ quite  _ the view, Omi-kun.” It sounds wrong in Sakusa’s voice. Everything that’s coming out of his own mouth is wrong. It’s like his reflection stepped out of the mirror and is standing before him to taunt him. Sakusa wants to shove him back in.

“You see it everyday in the locker room, Miya,” Sakusa deadpans and Miya looks as if he’s been slapped across the face. The reality of his own body standing before him when his consciousness is inside of Sakusa is probably just as alarming as it is to Sakusa himself. 

Miya is able to shake himself quickly and he’s doing this  _ horrible  _ thing with Sakusa’s mouth and Sakusa hates it. 

“Stop doing that with my face,” Sakusa demands before Miya can spew shit from his mouth.

“What? Smilin’? You should try it some time, Omi-kun, this actually  _ hurts _ !” He gives an over exaggerated smile that is nothing less than awkward and Sakusa narrows his eyes. His face is disgusting at this angle and he prefers when he isn’t able to see it at all.

“I prefer not to.” Sakusa crosses his arms over his chest and scans the apartment, more calmly this time. Nothing seems to be out of place, but this is only the living room. The real damage will probably be in the bedroom. Miya is nosy in the worst of ways and he’s positive that he’d gone through everything. He’d already spared a glance at Sakusa’s... privates. (Sakusa had to look at Miya’s in order to use the restroom, but he hadn’t  _ ogled _ .)

“Yeah, I can tell!” Miya shakes his head and he grins again, in that pained way that Sakusa’s face can only manage. “You’ve gotta nice place here, Omi-kun! It’s a shame that you’ve never invited me over!” He pouts, which is so much worse than the smiling could have ever been. Sakusa has never pouted in his life and he doesn’t plan on starting now.

“I don’t make it a habit of inviting wild animals into my home,” Sakusa’s feeling kind of smug from that remark, especially when he gets an  _ Oi!  _ in response. But it brings him back to reality; Miya is in his home  _ and  _ his body. It’s an invasion, one that makes Sakusa shiver. “How did this even happen? People don’t just wake up in the wrong body.”

Miya shrugs and he flings himself down on Sakusa’s couch, spreading out like he owns the place. In Sakusa’s body, he technically does own it, or rent it. But Sakusa has a habit of making himself look as small as possible, and Miya is making him do the opposite of that. If they were to go out in public, people would know something was off in less than three seconds.

“Maybe it’s when we collided at practice yesterday?” Miya suggests. It’s the only logical explanation; their hit had been pretty intense, neither of them not really knowing how it happened in the first place. But they both landed flat on their asses and there was a lot of yelling involved. Sakusa had gone to wash Miya’s filth off his body after receiving a scolding from Meian. 

“But why didn’t it happen then?”

“I don’t  _ know, _ Omi-kun! None of this makes sense! I know I’m a smart guy but c’mon now, I don’t got all the answers!” Sakusa’s lips quirk into a smirk (one all too familiar on Miya’s face) and Miya interjects before he can get the thought out of his head, “I  _ am _ smart, okay?!” 

“I guess it’s a logical explanation...” Sakusa can’t come up with anything better so he’s forced to admit that Miya for once. “How do we switch back? We can’t stay in each other’s bodies forever. People will notice.”

“I dunno, I’m quite enjoying being in yer body...” 

Sakusa narrows his eyes, “That’s because you’re disgusting.”

“Oh I didn’t do anything naughty!” There’s something heavy that hangs in the air, perhaps a threat of  _ yet.  _ He hasn’t done anything naughty  _ yet.  _ Sakusa doesn’t want to give him an opportunity to reach that. 

“I don’t trust you.” Sakusa sits on the far end of the couch, tucking his hands underneath his legs. At least he knows his apartment is clean, while Miya’s apartment was a biohazard. If they stayed here, then it would be fine. “We’re not leaving my apartment until we find a solution.”

“If you wanted to spend time with me, ya could’ve just said so, Omi-kun,” Miya teases and the glare he receives is sharper than any knife. 

“I have to make sure you don’t fuck anything up,” Sakusa repeats, though more harshly this time. He can see the pain flash across Miya’s face (well, his own) and guilt pierces his heart briefly.

“Ya wound me, Omi-kun! I would never do such a thing!” Sakusa scoffs and he goes to investigate the apartment. His bed is a mess thanks to Miya, the corners untucked and pillows strewn about. There’s clothes on the floor (one shirt to be exact, the one Miya should be  _ wearing _ ), but that seems to be the only thing out of place. The bathroom is still spotless, thankfully, save for the toilet seat cover standing up rather than closed as Sakusa prefers. There was no tornado or hurricane or any other kind of natural disaster that struck. But it had only been a couple hours. If Sakusa had left him up to his own devices for too long, who knows what would’ve happened.

“Ya trust me now?” Miya asks when Sakusa makes his way back into the living room.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Sakusa warns. The two of them linger in silence for a moment, Miya with a goofy smile on his face and Sakus trying to ignore it. He knows Miya wants a compliment, but he doesn’t dish those out frequently. 

They spend the better half of the morning and early afternoon researching. They can’t find anything online that isn’t related to fiction, no real-life accounts of people swapping bodies in the middle of the night. Miya tries to convince Sakusa to watch the American movie  _ Freaky Friday _ , but Sakusa would rather do literally anything else. 

“C’mon, it’sa classic!” Miya begs.

“Absolutely not. It’s foolish and will only waste our time. I’m planning on being back in my body by tonight.” Sakusa’s not sure that he can stand being in Miya’s body for much longer. He’s too... aware of him. The way his muscles ache, the hardness of his fingertips, the slight difference in height. He feels uncomfortable and out of place with his hair standing out so much even though there’s nobody around to see it. 

There’s another problem Sakusa is having, and he’s shoved it deep down inside, not wanting to even think the thoughts that may cross his mind. But of course, Miya opens his big fat mouth and these thoughts catapult themselves to the forefront.

“I have it,” Miya announces later that evening. The sun isn’t quite setting yet and Sakusa is getting irritated from having spent so much time around Miya and his ego. 

Sakusa lets out a sigh. This is the fourth time he’s declared that he’s had “it”, which is usually a stupid suggestion for how to get in their own bodies.

“What could it possibly be this time?” Sakusa asks, trying to sound interested but there’s no way he could be.

A wolfish grin spreads on Miya’s (Sakusa’s, really) lips. It actually makes Sakusa lean back warily. He’s never once made that expression himself and the hairs stick up on the back of his neck. Whatever Miya is about to suggest, it can’t be good.

“We should have sex. Then that way, we’re connected. Ya know... you inside’a me, me inside’a you...” Miya waggles his eyebrows suggestively, but Sakusa can see the confidence melt off his face when Sakusa doesn’t react right away.

Sakusa can’t react even if he wants to. He feels frozen, like the wind has been knocked out of him and he has no choice but to sit still and  _ breathe _ .

The truth is, Sakusa doesn’t hate Miya Atsumu as much as he lets on. Or at all honestly. He’d been enraged and determined from the moment he woke up in this body to distract from the fact that he has a big, middle school crush on his setter. It’s embarrassing, really, to admit. On the outside, Sakusa comes off as somebody who is incapable of or indifferent towards romantic feelings. He prefers it that way because he doesn’t like being vulnerable. But he has feelings, however minute they may be most of the time. For Miya, however, they’re all encompassing; the weight of it is like an elephant sitting on his chest. It’s too much. So he ignores it. He’s good at acting like he dislikes people because that’s what he’s done his whole life.

All at once Sakusa’s face pinches inward. The fact that Miya suggested something so ridiculous shouldn’t shock him, but it does. This is completely on par with Miya’s personality. 

“Oi, stop doin’ that with my face! Yer gonna give me wrinkles!” Miya snaps.

“I just can’t believe you would suggest something so stupid.” Sakusa deadpans. Though it might work, if the thought didn’t make Sakusa’s skin crawl. He’d never had sex before, and he’d like to keep it that way. There’s too much touching, too many bodily fluids being swapped that Sakusa can’t even think about. Plus... “If we do...  _ that _ , it’s like I would be having sex with myself.”

“Oh... Well what’s wrong with that? Yer pretty hot Omi-kun.”

“You just want me to compliment you back.” There’s heat on Sakusa’s cheeks, he can feel it, and he does not want to think about the fact that it’s  _ Miya’s  _ face that is flushed rather than his. 

Miya shrugs, “Of course I wouldn’t mind a compliment, like ‘oh, Atsumu-san, yer so muscular and hot, I love bein’ in yer body!’”

Sakusa’s face falls even more, “Why do I have to when you just do it yourself?”

Miya throws his hands up in defeat but now  _ he’s _ blushing and the color looks odd on Sakusa’s pale cheeks. It’s still strange looking at yourself outside of the mirror, and Sakusa wants this resolved sooner rather than later. But the one thing he can’t bring himself to do is get naked with Miya, so that option is out of the question, even if it’s probably Miya’s most promising suggestion. 

They try to brainstorm some more, but Sakusa can’t come up with anything else. He’s too hyper focused on the fact that he’s living in somebody else’s skin and somebody else is in  _ his _ . He can’t control how many germs his body is receiving and he can only do so much in helping clean when he’s now in an outside point of view. For all it’s worth, however, Miya is being extra cautious, for which Sakusa is grateful. Miya might be an ass but he’s caring, in his own way, even if it gets annoying.

He realizes the extent of this when Atsumu brings up a giant Issue right before they’re going to sleep.

“So, do ya like... want me to shower? Seems like somethin’ you’d do before bed.” Miya’s folding back Sakusa’s bed sheets, after being shown how to properly do it. They’d rationed that Miya would sleep in Sakusa’s bed because Sakusa didn’t want Miya’s germs all over his room. He would take the couch and then burn it later if he had to. He also needs a shower himself, but Sakusa needs to mentally prepare to get into the shower in Miya’s body. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, mostly at least.

Sakusa is silent for some time. Yes, he would like Miya to shower. But he needs to be in the room to make sure he does it right. He’s not sure how well that would end since Miya is already grinning like an idiot. It makes Sakusa’s face look ugly, and Sakusa already doesn’t think too highly of his own looks. 

“Let’s go,” Sakusa sighs heavily and Miya’s eyebrow raises, a skill Sakusa is unaware his own body can do. Miya follows him to the bathroom nonetheless and Sakusa gets the temperature of the water just right for him. “Strip,” he commands, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Oh, kinky,” Miya purrs and Sakusa chokes on a gag. “If ya wanted me out of my clothes so fast ya could’ve asked me hours ago, Omi.” His body is still shirtless so all Miya has to do is take off his sweatpants and boxers. If Sakusa thought that looking at his face directly was strange, looking at his whole body head on is even worse. He can see every freckle, every bone jutting out where the muscle wears thin, every scar he’s ever gotten an ugly blemish on pale skin. He hates it. 

But what he hates even more is Miya looking down and gawking at his body.

“Stop that,” Sakusa swats him and nudges him gingerly towards the shower. He needs to be careful, that is  _ his _ body afterall.

“I’m just admirin’ the view,” Miya sings and steps into the shower, grin as feral as he can make Sakusa’s lips go. It looks painful and Sakusa knows for a fact that it is.

“Well stop it.” He gets Miya to stand under the water and grabs the shampoo. 

“Oh, Omi-kun, are you going to  _ bathe  _ me?” The word sounds perverse coming from his own voice box and Sakusa knows it would’ve sounded worse coming from Miya’s own mouth. He’s kind of grateful it didn’t, but it still sends a shiver up his spine.

“I don’t trust you to do it yourself.” It’s the truth. Sakusa has been washing his own hair since he was about five, he’s the one who knows it best. It’s not easy dealing with his frizzy curls and he knows that Miya won’t know what to do with them. He starts to run his fingers through his hair, having a little difficulty since he’s not used to the angle. Miya has gone silent, which probably means Sakusa is doing something good. “Okay, rinse.”

Miya stands and he looks almost in a daze as he leans back so the water can hit the black curls on top of his head. The soap travels down his body in rivers and pools down his feet; Sakusa tries not to stare, but he has to in order to make sure he’s good to move on to the next step. He does not want to ogle his own body, the thought is disturbing, but if he’s Miya then maybe he can pretend he doesn’t notice the way Miya looks at him too. Sakusa’s crush soars right back to the forefront of his mind, and he tries not to get his hopes up that maybe Miya likes him too. Why would anybody like somebody like him? He’s a freak, he knows it and he’s not ashamed (not anymore at least). But Miya’s flirting is incessant on a good day and everybody else notices it. Sakusa can’t indulge him though. It’ll only hurt in the end.

He lathers up a clean washcloth with his bar soap and once he’s deemed it ready he starts to wash up and down his body. He starts at the neck and makes his way down, making sure every inch of skin is coated with the white suds. He uses an unscented, antibacterial soap to keep all the germs at bay, and it helps that every day he uses a new washcloth. Miya is still silent, only watching as his own hands travel over Sakusa’s body. There’s a shiver that passes through him when Sakusa starts to clean his genitals, and he doesn’t notice the twitch of excitement over his hand.

Sakusa has always found the concept of somebody touching or washing his body uncomfortable. He’s never wanted somebody to see him naked in his life. But right now he feels nothing more than inconvenienced. Maybe it’s because Miya’s in his own body and there’s no avoiding him seeing everything. Sakusa can control where Miya’s hands go, both on his own body and on his. It’s strange.

“Ya know Omi-kun-”

“No.” Sakusa cuts him off and removes the hand off of him, tilting his head so Miya knows he wants him back under the spray. His heart is racing; who knew touching himself, literally, would make him so excited?

“Ya didn’t even know what I was gonna say!” Miya exclaims when he’s all rinsed off, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t need to. It was going to be perverted and I didn’t want to hear it.”

Miya’s lack of response speaks volumes and the rest of the shower is much of the same. He helps Miya towel off, which is oddly domestic and another something sparks in Sakusa’s chest that he chooses to ignore.

“Ya need my help washing my body, Omi-kun?” Miya wiggles Sakusa’s eyebrows again and Sakusa pinches his face in disgust.

“I promise you I can do a better job than you ever could.” Sakusa is getting the water ready again for his own shower and he smirks when he hears Miya’s gasp.

“That’s just cold Omi Omi.”

He expects Miya to leave but he doesn’t, so he just lets him stay. It isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before and any embarrassment Sakusa would normally feel is gone. He takes his time with his shower, making sure to point out every way Miya can improve his own shower routine. Miya only scoffs and chuffs at each suggestion but he knows in a few weeks time he’ll be thanking him.

There’s only one last course of action before bedtime and it’s Sakusa’s facial skincare routine. It’s long and complicated but Sakusa walks him through it (after thoroughly washing Miya’s hands). He pushes his curly locks back from his own face and tries not to think about how close the two of them are, how he can feel Miya’s puff of breath on his top lip and nose. Sakusa’s always been smug about how he grew just a little taller than Miya, a fact that he doesn’t let slip between the cracks often.

“You do this every night, Omi-kun?” Miya asks as he spreads the face mask onto his skin and then Miya’s, figuring that they both may as well do it. At least Miya’s hair is a little easier to maintain than Sakusa’s own wild mane. 

“Mhm. My skin is very oily and if I don’t take extra precautions then I’ll break out. Considering how much we sweat at practice too, it’s necessary.”

Miya makes a noise of understanding and lets Sakusa do his thing. There’s a blush on pale skin that Sakusa opts to ignore; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but perhaps Miya isn’t as unaffected as he lets on.

“You look so cute with yer hair pushed back like this,” Miya comments offhandedly and Sakusa wants to shove his head under the faucet to shut him up.

Sakusa only turns his back to him, but not before Miya stretches his lips into a smirk. 

“Ya know you like when I compliment ya, Omi-kun,” Miya purrs and touches his shoulder. Sakusa flinches away, shaking his head.

“Let’s just get this off and go to bed, okay?” He feels a little breathless. This is ridiculous. This is Miya Atsumu, world renowned volleyball player with the fuckboy vibes. Miya’s just toying with him, just like he toys with the other team with his wicked serves. He won’t come undone under his spell. 

Miya’s doing the thing with Sakusa’s face that Sakusa hates the most as he delicately washes off the face mask and pats and dries his face. He wants to smother him with the towel, but he’s not sure he could live his whole life in Miya Atsumu’s body. He’s had twenty-two years in his own, which is plenty of practice, but learning the intricacies of Miya’s is not something he wants to do while being inside of him. The two of them head to bed with Miya blowing him a kiss and Sakusa promptly ignores him and crawls into the makeshift bed he’s made on the couch. Hopefully sleep will reverse this horrible thing that’s happened to him, or he’ll finally wake up from this nightmare.

Unfortunately, he wakes up on the couch and he rubs a hand over his face sleepily in disappointment. Sakusa knows that if he lives another day in Miya Atsumu’s body that things will go awry. It’s not good for his health, and he can’t keep washing his own body for Miya. Something is bound to happen and he doesn’t want to think about the aftermath.

Sakusa is about to untangle himself from the sheets when Miya drags himself into the room, shirtless and pale. 

“I have an idea,” Miya announces through a yawn. There’s dark circles under his eyes, which is nothing out of the ordinary. Sakusa wonders if Miya had a difficult time sleeping but doesn’t ask, he doesn’t want him to think he cares. 

“Okay?” Sakusa waits; he’s listening, hopefully to something good.

“We need my brother for it to work.” Miya says and Sakusa tilts his head. Not only does he have Miya’s body in his own apartment, he’s going to have his twin’s too. He’s never met Miya Osamu so he has no idea how his personal hygiene is. From what he’s heard, Osamu seems a bit more put together than his brother, so that is at least promising.

“Why?”

Miya shrugs, “As much as I hate to, I always go to him when I need help. And he always has a solution so...”

Sakusa stares for a moment before sighing, “Fine, whatever.”

Thirty minutes later, Miya Osamu is standing outside of his apartment. He takes one good look at his brother’s face, which Sakusa tries and fails to twist into the semblance of a confident smile, and goes, “You’re not my brother.”

Sakusa’s expression immediately falls and he feels heat on his back, lanky arms draping around his shoulders.

“Sup,” Miya says in Sakusa’s deadpan drawl. Osamu’s eyes flicker between Miya’s body and then Sakusa’s, then back to Miya’s.

“Ah, I see the problem,” Osamu pushes his way into the apartment. Sakusa isn’t sure how he came to the conclusion so quickly and isn’t even freaked out, but then again he’s dealt with Atsumu for more than twenty-three years. He’s used to all his quirks and problems by now, whereas Sakusa is not.

“Ya think you can fix us?” Miya asks and Osamu only motions to the couch.

“Give me a minute. Sit down.” When Sakusa and Miya just stare at him, Osamu motions more insistently for them to sit down. Sakusa doesn’t even think to ask any questions, he’s just tired of not being able to anxiously bend his wrists or fingers when he needs to and he needs out of this body. Osamu stares them down for a moment before moving around to the other side of the couch.

“What’re you-” Miya’s words are cut off by Osamu’s hands on either side of their heads and the sound of two skulls cracking together as Osamu pushes them with all his might into each other. The two of them groan and clutch their heads; Sakusa’s image goes foggy as he ducks his head towards his knees and he swears he blacks out for a moment. But when the stars are finally gone from his eyes and he sits up straight, despite the dull ache in his head, the point of view isn’t the same. A quick glance down shows Sakusa bony, pale fingers dotted with moles and he actually smiles. It’s not as painful, it’s only slight, but it’s a  _ smile _ .

He’s in his own body again. And he’s going to kill Miya Osamu for smacking their heads together. Thankfully Miya is already on it, lunging over the back of the couch to attack his brother. Osamu side steps him, quick on his feet from years of volleyball practice.

“The fuck did ya do that for?!” Miya exclaims and Osamu smirks, one much like Miya’s own but it looks  _ different _ on Osamu’s face.

“Ya needed to be back in your bodies right?” Osamu asks, as if it were obvious. The answer is yes, they did, but not so violently. But it worked, so maybe Miya shouldn’t be giving him shit. “I did what ya couldn’t do in twenty-four hours. You’re welcome.” The other twin turns and leaves the apartment as if he was never there, leaving Sakusa and Miya staring at each other incredulously.

“If I have a bruise on my face, I’m blaming you,” Sakusa says finally and he stands, intent on going to wash any filth from Miya off of him. 

“I didn’t even do anything!” Miya yells and Sakusa can’t help but laugh. It’s genuine and he covers his cracked lips with his fingers. It feels good to be in the comfort (or discomfort) of his own body again.

Miya’s lips part in surprise at making Sakusa laugh and the two of them are staring at each other once again.

“Ya know, Omi-kun,” Miya begins, pausing because he figures Sakusa is going to cut him off. Sakusa is too elated, in his own dim way, to do so, so Miya continues, “If ya wanted me in yer apartment so bad, ya could’ve just asked.”

Sakusa bristles, remembering that Miya had said something similar the day before. He feels confidence creep up the back of his neck as it rarely does. He’s finally surrounded by antiseptic and lemon and it’s the sweet smell of victory he inhales, letting the high coerce him to respond, “Next time, I will.”

The look on Miya’s face is priceless, and Sakusa is so happy he gets to witness it.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/novocaine_sea)


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